


All this talk of kissing makes me wanna-

by orphan_account



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Beaches, Birthday Party, Drinking, Multi, they all just get drunk and do stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: -puke.So, they had all left their extreme gears… somewhere – or those who brought their gear did anyway – and then Rouge had spotted a sign: ‘alcohol! Because no great stories started with a salad’. Sonic could testify against that – anyway, they went inside. And then this happened…





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. It was late at night and whatever. enjoy.

”You can’t even kiss someone with a beak.”

“You sure? I could demonstrate~”

“Ew, no. I don’t wanna be kissed by _you_.”

Rouge broke into giggling. “Oh jeez – all this talk of kissing makes me wanna-“

“-puke,” finished Knuckles, taking another swig of his beer with a disgusted expression. “Why am I even here?” he then groaned, rubbing his temples absently as Storm got something in his throat, and Amy attempted to help him by hitting him on his back.

With her hammer.

“Knux,” said Sonic, turning to Knuckles with a surprisingly mature look. “You need to get out – to go out and have a little fun sometimes. All you ever do is watch that emerald – honestly, it’s almost sad.”

Knuckles gave him a withering glare. “It is my duty, inherited from my-“

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Sonic. “That wasn’t the point.” He leaned back in his seat, but then Jet beside him leaned out over the table instead, hiding his curiosity badly as he asked,

“Emerald?”

“Yeah,” said Knuckles. “The Master Emerald. Keeps Angel Island afloat – ‘s my home.”

Jet nodded slowly. In his hand he held a glass with something called ‘mystic amethyst’ on the menu, and shifted in some indistinct violet colour bordering on pink. Currently he was spilling some of it, but didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t seem to notice either when Sonic took the glass, and since he didn’t Sonic decided that, _why should he let this beverage go to waste?_ – and started sipping from it.

So, they had all left their extreme gears… somewhere – or those who brought their gear did anyway – and then Rouge had spotted a sign: ‘alcohol! Because no great stories started with a salad’. Sonic could testify against that – anyway, they went inside. And then this happened…

“Reminds me of home…” Jet then mumbled. 

“What?” asked Sonic, not keeping up with the conversation.

Jet rolled his eyes. “Floating isles. Floating stuff. Ships. That kinda thing.” He looked around a bit, and then he saw that Sonic had confiscated his drink. It was already finished. He sighed. “I’m far too sober to be havin’ this – this conversation with you.”

Sonic couldn’t think of a reply fast enough, because then someone clinked two glasses together, and their group’s attention all went to her. Rouge looked like she was in her right element even more than usual tonight, and she waved a glass with brightly coloured beverage around before saying, “Let’s get outta here. I wanna visit the beach.”

That seemed like a brilliant idea.

-X- 

Sandcastle was a nice town south of nowhere, right next to the sea and with great, endless beaches. The setting sun looked like a slice of orange being dipped in the waves, and great crowds of people still roaming the waterline could be heard from a distance.

Rouge had stopped them briefly to acquire a sunhat, and now they were trekking down the hill towards the soft, white slope of sand being washed over by waves of water and people. Sonic was carrying an extreme gear – taking the colour into account, then it was his own – and Knuckles and Jet were walking next to him on both sides like some kind of lame bodyguards.

They got to the beach.

Somehow they were sober enough to remember they didn’t have swimsuits or anything, so Knuckles just removed his shoes and went to look for seashells at the shore. Amy and Rouge quickly followed, and somehow even Sonic got roped into it. They found lots of trash, a dozen dead jellyfish, and some other stuff, but then they reached a restaurant and promptly forgot about the rest…

“A restaurant!” Amy exclaimed happily, pointing at the building in question which rose from the grassy plains behind the beach like a block of light. It was big and painted pastel-blue, everything in neat square shapes and with a balcony-slash-terrace going all the way ‘round it.

And they advertised that they had fresh fruit and ice-cream.

“Good,” said someone. “I’m starving.”

“You say?” Sonic asked tiredly or sarcastically or whatever, trekking after Jet and Wave, who had put her hair up in a ponytail. Oh wait. Sonic’s quills were in a ponytail too – he had almost forgot he had let Amy put it up. -Actually, why was Amy with them?

The bell above the door jingled, and then they all drew in a breath of air scented with warm food, drinks and desserts mixed with a bit of fresh sea air. Sonic cheered up considerably, and the rest of the gang dumped themselves at a table while Amy lovingly dragged Sonic up to the counter, clinging to his arm like a love-sick, pink octopus.

“Do you have sushi?”

“Or hamburgers,” Sonic interjected. “No wait – chilidogs?”

“Hello, yes, yes and no.” –Sonic then sulked for twenty minutes while Amy tried to feed him sushi. And then someone – he was blaming Rouge for this, dammit – ordered drinks. Jet told him that his father had once… well, it was a happy memory. Also, that father was now dead. And Amy read all their futures, told Sonic he was going to have _at least_ fifteen children with her, and then-

-X-

_Gahhhhh_

“Turn off the lights…” he managed to mumble, retreating in under… something. It was soft, so he didn’t really care.

“Sonic,” came a shrill voice mercilessly pounding on the inside of his skull. “This is your own fault, and I can’t turn off the sun.”

…Tails? “Get me some Advil,” he demanded weakly. God – was he going to throw up? Yes. No. Definitely. He rolled over and heaved, and a goo containing last night’s sushi and a hell of a lot of alcohol made acquaintances with his bedroom floor. Or at least he thought it was his bedroom… They left Sandcastle, right? Yes, yes… he remembered a taxi. And… and blurghhh

“…Chaos,” came the exasperated reply after a moment of silence. “Wait here.”

_Like I’ll move anytime soon._

And then the doorbell rang.

-X-

 _No_ , was Sonic’s strongest feeling at the moment. But somehow he managed to roll out of bed, confirm that it was indeed his own bedroom, avoided his puddle of vomit and almost fell down the stairs. He stumbled through the hall, rested his forehead against the door for a moment, and then he opened.

“Jet?”

The hawk gave him a nasty look, feathers in a disarray and with… lipstick smears next to his eye? Oh this was _gold_.

“Whatcha doing here?” Sonic asked, feeling considerably better now that he could be gleeful for something.

“My extreme gear,” said Jet angrily. “Do you maybe, have it stashed, somewhere in your house?”

…Oh yeah. That happened.

Sonic shrugged, just as Tails came rushing through the house again. “Maybe,” he said. “Whose lipstick?”

Jet paled. “I’m afraid of the possibility that it might be Pinky’s. Now do you have my gear or shall I visit Knuckles instead?”

“Hold on,” said Sonic, just as Tails came up to him. The fox gave him both a worried and an annoyed look, and said,

“Why are you up? You’re hungover!”

“I answered the door,” said Sonic, and stepped to the side to show Jet, who had taken to leaning against the doorway.

“…Good morning?” tried Tails.

“Fuck off,” greeted Jet.

Tails gave him a horrified look. And then he turned to Sonic, ignoring the bird, and held up a package. “Here you go. And since you’re up and about then I’ll leave you to the fate of cleaning up your own vomit.” –and with that, he turned around and went back to the basement-slash-workshop-slash-hangar…

“My extreme gear?” Jet almost hissed.

“Yeah, yeah,” sighed Sonic. “I’ll go and get it…”

-he found it in the bathroom. Why, he didn’t know, but he didn’t particularly care to find out so he just brought it to Jet, who snatched it from Sonic like it was a baby Sonic had just threatened to dip in ketchup and- yeah.

“Bye,” he then said curtly, starting up his gear and leaping up onto it, almost wobbling as he tried to stand on it. Apparently Sonic wasn’t the only one who was hungover. 

“Bye,” Sonic agreed, and slammed the door in his face. And then he noticed that he still had vomit around his mouth, and used his glove to wipe it off.

Never again. Or at least not until the next birthday party…

…wait. Jet was seventeen now, wasn’t he?

-and maybe, a little, Sonic wondered if he had actually managed to wish him a happy birthday in the chaos of last night…


End file.
